From Aprons to Riches
by bettertoburnout
Summary: Beca x Chloe prompt: "Beca is a chef, works long hours and has basically no life outside of work. After a dinner service she goes to a bar late at night to unwind and meets Chloe, the cute bartender." - Oneshot.


The clock on the back wall of the kitchen finally read something close enough to 11pm for me to start untying the food-stained apron from around my waist. I smiled to myself as the second hand inched closer and closer to my freedom, and allowed a small sigh to escape my lips. God, I hated it here. I'd been working at this godforsaken Diner in downtown L.A for almost 6 months now, as a way to keep up with the rent whilst I tried to kick-start my DJ career. It was a competitive world, particularly when you were here, at the heart of it, and I was struggling. I was working on new mixes every day and sending them to every radio station and label I could find, but it wasn't getting me very far. My real problem was my lack of people skills. Here, it seemed to be more about who you knew than actual talent and dedication, and so far I was not well connected. Still, I didn't regret my decision to drop out of college to move here for a second. My flat was tiny and damp, and I hated the long hours of crappy work here at the Diner, but anything was better than bullshitting my way through a college course I had no interest in, with people I didn't care about, all under the watchful eye of my father. He hadn't seen eye-to-eye with me about coming here, but again I didn't really care, and there wasn't a lot he could do to stop me. He had no real leverage and he knew it, so he quietly said goodbye and I left Georgia for good. As I hung my frayed apron on the hook by the door and shouldered my satchel, I allowed myself a moment to wonder at how everyone back home was doing. My best friend Jesse, Luke the campus DJ at Barden Uni and even my dad... I was cut short by my boss barging in through the swing door beside me, with all the grace of an enraged rhinoceros. I rolled my eyes at the rant that I knew was coming.

"Beca! That last pasta dish was undercooked, do you hear me? I had to give the man a free dinner coupon! That's coming out of your pay. You can't keep screwing up, girl. There are plenty of tramps out there who could cook better than you. Maybe I should just hire one of them!" His eyes gleamed with malice, and I suppressed the urge to smirk and make some kind of snarky remark.

"Sorry."

"Too right you're sorry! And not more lates, that's 3 this week; I'm keeping track. I won't tolerate this kind of behavior Beca!" I managed to plaster a mildly convincing smile across my face.

"Sure, got it. It won't happen again."

"It'd better not." He grumbled, pushing his way back out of the kitchen. Before exiting through the service door at the back, I vented my pent up anger of a piece of leftover dough, my fist slamming into it with a satisfying dull thud. I grit my teeth, and vowed that I would get out of here as soon as possible, no matter what.

My watch read 11:17pm as I trudged down the poorly-lit back road that would eventually take me to my flat. I was all too aware of my aching feet, and no wonder after another 11 hour shift at the Diner. But I had a wad of notes in my pocket that reminded me that it wasn't all for nothing, and so I kept walking, turning my thoughts to the rest of the weekend ahead of me. It was a saturday night, which meant that tomorrow was a day off for me as the Diner was closed on sundays. I didn't have any plans as of yet, and I shivered as a sudden gust of wind ripped into me, reminding me of the bitterly cold night air. Maybe I should make another attempt at actually upholding some sort of social life. I recalled a small, rather nondescript bar on the main street behind my flat, and decided to warm up with a drink. Why not.

The bar was emptier than I had anticipated. Only a couple of the dingy back tables were occupied, mostly by leering old men in thick overcoats, and a couple of haggard businessmen drowning their sorrows in a pint. The bar itself was completely empty, save for the bartender. The girl in question was busying herself polishing and stacking glasses behind the bar, and I found myself transfixed as I watched her slender form flowing through the motions of her task. She was elegant and of medium height, her glowing face framed by long, bouncing ginger curls. She glanced up at me as I approached, and I nearly stopped in my tracks at her piercing gaze - her eyes were the kind of blue that you only see in disney films, where the princess was put together by a spell because she's too beautiful to be _real. _Except this one was real - she was standing right in front of me, a delicate smile on her lips. I had never had much time for fairytales, seeing as my life was never that perfect. Even from an early age, I deemed them unrealistic and unfair. Life wasn't like that, so why encourage false hope. Still, I couldn't help but return the smile wholeheartedly.

"Hi! What can I get you?" She threw the cloth across one shoulder and leant across the bar, elbows resting a few inches from my hands as I perched on the edge of one of the stools. I hated being small. I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous to speak to this girl.

"Uh, just a beer I think." She grinned and swept over to the now sparkling stack of glasses, selecting one and proceeding to fill it with beer. As she slid it across to me, I noticed her eyes fixed upon my face. I blushed slightly, and handed her a $20 bill without looking up.

"So, a beer huh? You don't look the beer type. Long day?" She had such a pretty voice. She made everything sound so positive... I realised I was gushing to myself and forgetting to answer. I shrugged, "Yeah, I work a shitty 11 hour shift. And it's freezing outside." Her forehead creased.

"11 hours? That's harsh."

"Yeah, I need the money I guess." I was reluctant to spill my life story to a complete stranger, no matter how beautiful she was. She didn't seem to share my inhibitions though, and after glancing at the men on the other tables, came out from behind the bar and plonked herself on the stool next to me. Our legs were touching, and I resisted the urge to squirm or shy away.

"Fair enough. I'm Chloe, by the way." She stuck out her hand for me to shake, and I did so.

"Beca." Was it just me, or did our hands linger for a moment after breaking the initial contact? I was the first to draw back, feeling my cheeks heat slightly again. She was still gazing at me. Surely it was all in my head anyway. She was so perfect. Princess Chloe. I could already picture her in an oversized pink ballgown with a glittering tiara perched atop those glossy curls. Too perfect, too good to be true. Right? I took a sip of my drink and put it back on its placemat, almost afraid to keep looking at this mirage in front of me. But I felt her leg shift against mine, and suddenly she leant forwards, closing the small distance between us and placed her hand on my knee. I started, and turned once more to face her now concerned gaze.

"Beca... are you alright? You seem kinda down," she must have seen the apprehension in my eyes because she backtracked slightly. "I mean, I don't really know you but I'm usually quite good at reading people." She smiled encouragingly, still breathtakingly close. I tried to return it, but gave up when I realised that she wasn't convinced.

"I guess I'm just sick of doing a job I hate and getting nowhere with the one that I love... my dad never wanted me to move here, and I'm afraid that maybe he was right." I sighed, shaking my head. "It's nothing, honestly."

"It doesn't sound like nothing. Well, I'm here if you need to talk, 'kay?" She patted my knee and withdrew her hand, leaping up from her stool as a large man loomed out from the office at the back. I quickly turned back to my beer, downing it in an attempt to hide yet another blush. I got flustered too easily. The man looked around at the empty tables, and muttered something to Chloe, who nodded shyly. He then retreated back to his office, closing the door firmly behind him as if to keep us out. I rather thought it seemed to keep the bad atmosphere that he brought with him in. I looked back at Chloe, who was now back at the bar and counting change.

"What was that about?" I queried, raising one eyebrow. She hummed as she chucked a handful of coins into the register.

"Just my boss being an asshole as usual. He always blames his lack of business on me, which is clearly ridiculous. If he wants more customers he should spend some of his precious money on better drinks for a start!" She slammed the register shut, evidently cross. This was a massive contrast to cheerful princess Chloe from moments earlier, even though she wasn't all that angry, at least not by my standards.

"You should see my boss if you think that's bad. He actually threw a saucepan at my head the other day. Luckily his aim is as crap as his attitude." This drew a laugh like falling water, and suddenly the princess had returned.

"I like you, Beca, you're funny. Fancy stopping by tomorrow night? I get so bored working here with all these lecherous old guys trying to grope me all night, it'd be nice to chat, you know? If you're not busy that is." She punctuated this with a graceful toss of her head, flipping her hair back out of her face, and I struggled to keep my jaw from dropping.

"Sure thing, I mean, that'd be great, I, um, what time do you start?" I clenched my jaw, all too aware of how nervous I sounded.

"Tomorrow's not too bad, I just work 5-7pm. We could hang out afterwards too! It'd be so fun, don't you think?" I was truly astounded by her confidence, but I was finally getting somewhere with this socialising thing. And I couldn't pretend that I wasn't already looking forward to seeing her again.

"Great, I'll be here." She beamed at me again, sweeping past me to collect empty glasses. I stood up, taking my leave.

"See you tomorrow then!" She winked and laughed as I stuttered and stumbled out in a daze.

x

We spent the whole 2 hours of her sunday shift talking. I don't even remember what we talked about really, just everything. I told her of my dream to become a DJ, and how I had dropped out of college and made the move here to pursue it, but wasn't doing so well right now. She told me of how she'd similarly come here to pursue her acting career, after finishing college mind, and was also hitting hard times and forced to take on a job that she hated. We effectively bonded over ranting about our terrible dead-end jobs, and by the time we left at 7 it felt as though we'd been friends for a really long time already. Chloe just made everything flow. I'd always found it difficult to really open up to people about my true feelings, being so afraid of judgement and rejection as I was, but she put me at ease with her startling blue eyes and total lack of concern for personal space, and I was already becoming accustomed to this and even enjoying it at times.

"So, where to now Bec?" She already had a pet name for me. I felt her hand brush mine as she went to put her key for the bar in her bag, and resisted the urge to take it.

"Uh, I don't mind really." She hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder and smiled at me, her arm reaching around my waist as she began to drag me along.

"How about my place? I have some cool movies we could watch!" I rolled my eyes, suppressing a laugh.

"So long as you aren't an evil serial killer who plans to murder me and wear my skin then why not." She giggled, tugging me closer with the arm that encircled my waist, hand tight on my hip.

"You're so hilarious Bec. I obviously plan to kill you so that I can use your severed limbs as wall decorations, duh!" I joined her in giggling, enjoying the proximity.

We reached her flat in less than 10 minutes, and I took the opportunity to take in my surroundings as she fumbled around in her bag for the keys.

"Darn it, I only just put them in here as well. This thing is like a black hole sometimes!" She grumbled, finally holding them up triumphantly and unlocking the door. She lived in a nicer neighborhood than I did. There was a park just across the road from her block, and the flats looked much cleaner and better-kept than mine. I sighed to myself as I followed her into the small hallway just beyond the front door, closing it behind me. She kicked off her ankle-boots into a large pile of assorted footwear just by the door, and dumped her bag beside it.

"You can leave your stuff here if you want." I did so, and then followed her into the next room. It was a spacious open plan living room - kitchen area, the sofa closest to the door being Chloe's destination. She flopped down onto it, and gestured for me to join her. It wasn't a big sofa, and I had to gently slide in next to her, immediately noticing our closeness. I looked at her and for a moment it seemed as if she was leaning in, our heads almost touching, but then she seemed to break out of a daze and leant past me to grab the remote. My gut twisted, half relieved and half disappointed that she hadn't kissed me. Was that seriously what I wanted? What I expected? She was the princess, I had to remind myself, and I was in no way fit to be her prince charming. We sat and watched soppy films for hours, talking all the while, but under the surface I could feel a tension building. I could tell that Chloe felt it too, because occasionally I would catch her eyes drifting over to me when we weren't talking, feel her hand inch closer to mine, and an almost tangible sense of connection was starting to radiate from both of us. Longing. I could sense it. Or was it just in my head? I wasn't brave enough to risk being wrong. Not in front of this perfect girl. But I ached to touch her face, to reach out and stroke that rogue lock of fiery hair from her cheek, to tell her how beautiful she was... I must have been staring at her then, because she turned to face me, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Chloe.. I.. uh, I..." I began to stutter, trying to say something, anything that might make a difference. But I guess I didn't have to after all, because her hand floated up to lightly grasp the back of my head, and suddenly she was kissing me. And I was kissing her back, and I felt as though something large and electrical had just exploded inside of me. Our bodies melted together as we kissed with increasing passion, and I felt a hunger in the way she pulled me closer, impossibly closer. We stayed like that for a long time, finally breaking apart when breathing properly became entirely necessary, and we sat panting, gazing at each other with newfound courage.

"I've wanted to do that since you first walked into the bar on saturday, Beca." She confessed, hands still caressing my sides. I blushed.

"Me too. I was just scared really, I mean, you're so perfect and I just didn't want to ruin anything, or be wrong..." She grinned mischievously, her delicate hand moving up to cup my cheek.

"I say we do this more often. As an item. What say you?" Thankfully the blood was already in my cheeks, saving me from yet another obvious blush.

"Yes please. Sounds like a plan." We were grinning like idiots as we leant in to kiss again, this time becoming entangled in each other's limbs, no longer caring as we swept dvd cases off the arm of the sofa. I'd come to L.A in search of a future, and, well, instead I'd found my princess. I guess sometimes fairytales did exist in real life. Sure, we had a long way to go together, and we were nowhere near achieving our ideal careers and all that, but for now I'd finally found a source of constant happiness in the form of Chloe Beale, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
